Mix Up
by kandyfan4life
Summary: ONE SHOT! Department issued phones, smugness, & puppet master. Just a random lil' Tiva fic.


**Author's Note: Just a little something that popped into my head. Just a little one shot to take my mind off other things.**

**DISCLAIMER: I own nothing because if I did this show would have been 100,000 ways different but I don't own the show so there ya go.**

Mix Up

Long, dark hair, now messy after a very active night, is swept across the pillow and into her bed mate's face. Her eyes are closed, her back to him, she can hear him sniff slightly, taking in the scent of her hair that he describes as 'perfectly Ziva-ish', or 'falaffle-ly' as he had described it earlier, followed by his arm draping over her side as he snuggles closely to her. With her eyes still closed, not moving an inch she smiles contently.

"I'm glad you took mine and Ducky's advice about the chair." Her voice does not seem to startle him, after nearly a month of this he has become good at realizing when she is really asleep and when she is pretending.

"Well, I guess if we could share a bed in Paris without your snoring keeping me awake we can share a bed here," Tony smirks, his hand tracing up and down her side. She flinches slightly under his touch, smiling to herself.

"Don't you think it's time we slept?" Ziva asks, placing her hand over his. Tony can't help but smile at her suggestion, a suggestion that she made almost every night and almost every night the suggestion is disregarded.

"If I said no last night to that suggestion, what would make you think that I'd say yes to it tonight?" Tony smiles devishly as she turns to face him.

"I thought that you might be tired after such a long, hard day of teasing McGee and I about our 'probie' status," Ziva narrows her eyes at him, remembering just how many times that day he had called her probie. Tony smirks at her before his lips begin trailing kisses down her neck, eliciting a slight moan of pleasure as he nibbles gently on a rather sensitive area.

"Just making sure you remember who has the power!" Tony mutters between kisses. Ziva arches her eyebrow at this as her head turns so her eyes are looking into his, a mischievous glint in her brown orbs.

"Really? Well you Special Agent Dinozzo might have the power in the office, but please remember who has the power here, or do you think you're 'marionetting' me?" Ziva smiles wickedly as she quickly pins Tony's arms over his head and straddles him.

"Trust me Probationary Agent David; I don't plan on forgetting who holds the power in this room." Tony smiles at her then raises his head, capturing her lips with his, the kiss immediately growing intense. "As for the marionetting I don't have to be the Puppet Master in the bedroom." Tony flashes her another smile but she returns the smile with a confused expression. "A puppet master, the person who pulls the strings on the puppets to make them move. There was a whole series of movies about the Puppet Master and his puppets tha…" Tony tries to explain, surprised that she does not know this term.

"Just shut up!" Ziva growls and recaptures his mouth with hers, her hands moving down his body as her tongue delves into his mouth, all movie references and puppet talk long forgotten.

He had nearly blown it when he had, in a sleep induced haze, thought that Gibbs meant get Tony and Ziva out of a shared bed, but thankfully he had stopped himself in time, able to cover up his near blunder with the excuse of exhaustion. That, and the simple fact that Gibbs had been more involved with the case than McGee's misconstruing what he had just heard. Besides, it wasn't even like McGee had evidence that the two were actually involved, but from the glances, the touches and just the feel of the atmosphere something had obviously changed between the two.

McGee's thoughts are interrupted as he, for the fifth night in a row, finds himself acting as his Boss' personal chauffer, once again at a crime scene in the very late hours of the night or early hours of the morning depending on how one perceived it.

"McGee, get Ziva and Dinozzo out of their SEPARATE beds!" Gibbs orders, making sure to put emphasis on 'their'.

"Right Boss," McGee says and quickly gets out his phone, dialing the number of one of his team mates.

The phone rings three, four, five times before it is answered by a hostile, out of breath Tony.

"What McGee? Geez, do you make it a habit of calling at this time of night every night?" Tony snaps, obviously annoyed at being interrupted.

"Sorry Tony but you might want to remember that you are a NCIS agent and that you can be called out at anytime!" McGee states pointedly, his exhaustion adding an extra edge to his tone.

"Another case?" Tony asks, this time his voice is filled more with disappointment than anger or annoyance, he obviously doesn't want to leave his bed right now. McGee rolls his eyes, figuring he knows the very ex-Mossad assassin reason that Tony does not want to leave.

"Yes! Petty Officer Berger found dead inside his garage, stabbed to death but all doors and windows are locked from the inside at 1934 Lynnview Drive." McGee explains, glancing over his shoulder as Gibbs tries to console a very upset older man.

"Ok, I'll be there in a few," Tony says and begins to hang up but McGee stops him.

"Tony!"

"Yes Probie?" Tony asks, biting back the annoyance.

"Why did you just answer Ziva's phone?" The smug smirk in McGee's voice can be heard plainly over the phone and Tony can see McGee with that smug, clever little smirk he gets whenever he has caught Tony in a lie.

"Uhh, grabbed it at the office by mistake; see you in few!" Tony quickly hangs up. McGee smirks to himself and glances back at his boss, momentarily surprised that the infamous Leroy Jethro Gibbs has not realized what is going on right under his own nose.

"You answered my phone?" Ziva's eyes are daggers as she glares at Tony from across the room, the bed between them as they both throw on clothing.

"I didn't mean to, it was right beside mine. Not to mention that we all have the same phone; department issued!" Tony rolls his eyes as pokes his head through his shirt. Ziva is quiet for a moment, her eyes still boring into Tony.

"Thank God it wasn't Gibbs that called," Ziva shudders at the thought.

"That woulda been a head slap we'd been feeling forever." At this comment Tony shutters, then he picks up her black lacey bra off the floor and throws it to her.

"Thank you," Ziva does not look up as she catches the garment, looking in the floor for something else. "And that would've been the head slap that flocked us into the unemployment line."

"Knocked, knocked us into the unemployment line." Tony corrects as he zips up his NCIS jacket.

Just as she has finished putting on her clothes Tony's phone rings and both stop. They look at one another, neither making a move to answer the phone. Ziva nods her head slightly, motioning for Tony to answer it but Tony shakes his head. Ziva drops her arms by her side as her mouth gapes slightly, her eyes narrowing in disbelief at her partner's sudden fear of his phone. Both continue to stand still, waiting for the other to make a move until, on the seventh ring Ziva cannot take the awful ringtone any longer and grabs the phone.

"Yes?" She answers, realizing too late that she should have looked at the Caller ID.

"Hmm, you and Tony mix up phones Ziva?" McGee's voice is almost cheery as he asks her this. Ziva groans slightly that their team mate now has no reason to doubt that they are seeing one another.

"Yes McGee, what do you want?" Ziva asks, her voice nor her face expressing anything out of the ordinary.

"Crime scene, dead Petty Officer, found in his garage, all doors and windows locked from the inside, but then again, you probably already know that." The undeniable smirk in McGee's voice is enough to make Ziva want to reach through the phone and snap his neck.

"Why do you say that McGee?" Ziva asks, reminding herself to keep her anger in check and to not acknowledge anything.

"Well, I just figured that since you sound so awake that you've probably heard about this already."

"Where would I have heard about this McGee?" Ziva raises an eyebrow, her superb calm almost making Tony believe her as he stands silently in the bedroom watching Ziva lie.

"Oh I don't know, the news, Gibbs….Dinozzo?" McGee lets the latter hang for a moment before continuing, knowing that Ziva, for once, is caught off guard. "I already called him; I figured he might've called you since you have his phone and all."

"Oh, well um no, actually Tony has not called me. He is probably still in bed." Ziva smirks at Tony as he shoots her a glare and she blows him an air kiss.

"Well, I guess I'll see you in a little while."

"Ok McGee!" Ziva is just about to hang up when McGee starts talking again.

"Do you want the address?" McGee asks, this time fighting back the urge to laugh at the obviousness of where Ziva is at and with whom she is with.

"Um yes, of course." Ziva quickly says and listens as McGee tells her the address. "I'll be there shortly!" Ziva ends the call and throws the phone on the bed, resisting the urge to throw it at Tony.

"So McProbie knows now; what are we going to do about that?" Tony asks as he grabs his backpack from the floor, a mischievous smile forming at the corners of his mouth.

"We are not going to do anything; I, however, am going to remind him of my Mossad training," Ziva smiles at Tony as she zips up her NCIS jacket and heads out the door, Tony following behind her with a wicked little grin on his face; McGee had so better keep his mouth shut.


End file.
